


Halves Made Whole

by LasairTrevelyan



Category: Sons of Liberty (TV), Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, First Love, Historical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:28:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LasairTrevelyan/pseuds/LasairTrevelyan
Summary: A young woman decides to insert herself into history, and history is made.(An OC of mine falls in love in the beginning of the American Revolution, and it inspires actions that will change the world.)
Relationships: John Warren/OC
Kudos: 4





	Halves Made Whole

**1774**

The colonies were on the precipice of change. Tensions were running high from New Hampshire to Georgia, but nowhere could that tension be more tangible than in New York or Boston.

Funny, then, that Gemma Buckley found herself traveling from the former to the latter.

The carriage rumbled quietly along the road to Boston as a cold November rain spattered against the windows. Gemma’s father, a moderately successful textiles merchant from Setauket, Long Island, had found himself a business opportunity in Boston.

Treason.

A merchant could have business contacts anywhere, it seemed.

So George Buckley was an ideal candidate for the newly-born Sons of Liberty to pass along messages between New York and Boston, while under the guise of selling fabric for uniforms and other necessities to the British Army. Gemma’s brother Deacon was far more interested in participating in his father’s business than in the impending war, and so was invited along on the trip.

Gemma, however, was not. It took a great deal of convincing on her part for her father to allow her to come. The youngest of six, Gemma Buckley was always strong-willed (Or stubborn, as her sister would say.). She always knew her life lay beyond what the tiny town of Setauket had to offer her. Beyond what the life of a _proper lady_ had to offer her. She always preferred adventure over quietude. Climbing trees and skipping stones over fortepiano and cross-stitching. Opinions and debates over ladylike manners.

Needless to say, she was quite proud when her father relented and allowed her to travel with them.

She shivered and pulled her cloak more tightly around her shoulders as she looked out the window at the gray, dreary streets of Boston passing them by. The red of British soldiers’ coats punctuated the otherwise monochromatic air of the city, and as they traveled, Gemma nearly began to regret insisting so strongly upon coming with her brother and father.

And then she saw it.

Whipping in the wind atop a tall pole was a length of bright red silk.

A flag, with the word _LIBERTY_ emblazoned upon it in crisp, white lettering. A small mob of redcoats were scrambling to remove the flag while a crowd of riled citizens shouted and jeered at them.

A small smile crept over her lips. _So this was Boston._

Over her shoulder, Deacon watched the scene as well and chuckled. “Wouldn’t you love to see a sight like that back home, eh Gem?” He remarked snidely. “The stones on these folks. Makes York City look tame by comparison.”

“Hush,” their father interjected. “Remember: while we’re here, we are loyal subjects to the King.”

“Ah, yes. We must do the work that supports our treason,” Deacon joked in reply, earning him a glare from their father across the coach.

After far too long, the coach pulled to a stop in front of the inn where they would be staying. Gemma’s father and brother climbed out first onto the rain-soaked street, where they were greeted by a tall man in a long, dark coat.

“George Buckley? Joseph Warren; a pleasure to meet you.” The man introduced himself, shaking George and Deacon’s hands before Gemma began to climb out of the carriage and his attentions turned to her. Something in his gaze softened -- perhaps he was simply surprised to see a woman with them. Gemma’s cheeks flushed warm against the cold rain. “Allow me to help,” Warren continued, offering Gemma a hand down, which she accepted with a polite smile. “Come inside, out of the rain. I’ll have your bags sent up to your rooms. Samuel is running late, of course, so there’s plenty of time to get you settled in.”

“Thank you, Doctor Warren,” Gemma’s father replied with a nod. The trio followed their greeter inside the inn, where they regrouped. “Allow me to introduce my two youngest: my son Deacon, and my daughter, Gemma.”

“Pleasure to meet you both as well,” Warren added, averting his eyes when he realized he was staring at Gemma, who lowered her gaze as well. She was unused to such attention. Her sister was the pretty one. The ladylike one, with the poise and demeanor to charm anyone who crossed her path. Gemma was wild. Stubborn. The one no one would look at more than once. Not nearly as lovely as Susannah.

So why was he staring?

“Well, as I said, you’ve some time before meeting with Samuel and his...contact. Please, let me show you to your rooms?” Warren gestured to the stairs and began leading them up. “I have appointments to keep, so I won’t be joining you tonight. But you can always call on me at my practice, should you need.” Gemma’s father nodded.

“Thank you again, Doctor Warren. Deacon and I can find our way from here. Gemma, you are to take your supper in your room.”

“Yes, Father,” she answered, suppressing the annoyance in her voice and the urge to roll her eyes. Warren glanced curiously over at Gemma, who pursed her lips and smirked before he could ask. “I was not invited to their gathering. Apparently sedition is not permissible for a woman to take part in.” Her father cleared his throat anxiously, clearly worried about being overheard.

“Oh, in that case, perhaps I could escort you on a tour of the city? Once I am finished for the evening? I promise, Mister Buckley, your daughter’s safety will be the topmost of my priorities.”

“Oh, I -- that sounds lovely. Father, would that be alright? He promised it would be safe.” Gemma’s cheeks flushed as she looked to her father for his approval, which he gave -- albeit with a good deal of hesitation.

“Excellent. Well. I will stop by after supper? Hopefully, this rain will have stopped by then.”

Gemma smiled shyly. “I look forward to it, Doctor.”

Warren smiled as well. “Until then. A pleasure to meet you all.” He bowed politely and shook George and Deacon’s hands. His eyes lingered ever so slightly on Gemma. “Miss Buckley.” Then, he swept back down the hall and out of the inn.

_So. This was Boston._


End file.
